


Liar

by earthy



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: briefly mentioned Hawke x Anders, briefly mentioned Inquisitor x Cullen, the T rating is really just for Varric's swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9113800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthy/pseuds/earthy
Summary: "A flaming sack of bronto dung? Really?"Varric meets a certain mage in the Hinterlands. They have an awkward chat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one’s from the school of Most Of What Varric Says During DAI Is A Lie To Protect His Friends. 
> 
> Like Varric, I’m still working through my conflicted feels re: Anders’s actions in DA2, but I ultimately support the sassy feathermage 110%, and I think Varric does, too, when all is said and done. 
> 
> (I know this is a contentious topic in the fandom, so feel free to avoid this fic if that interpretation isn’t your jam.)
> 
> Please also note Varric’s somewhat negative feels re: Justice and magic do not accurately reflect the author’s feels.
> 
> Finally, the banter dialogue that inspired this little fic:
> 
> VIVIENNE: Am I to understand, Varric, that you knew the apostate who destroyed Kirkwall’s Chantry?  
> VARRIC: Unfortunately, yes.  
> VIVIENNE: What could he possibly have hoped to accomplish with such madness?  
> VARRIC: Exactly what he got: a whole lot of innocent people killing each other.  
> VIVIENNE: I take it he’s no longer on your Wintersend gift list.  
> VARRIC: Depends. Does a flaming sack of bronto dung count as a gift?  
> VIVIENNE: Only if you tie it with a silk ribbon, my dear.
> 
> \---

"A flaming sack of bronto dung? Really?"

Varric whips around with Bianca at the ready. He nearly pulls the trigger even with the sun in his eyes so he can’t properly see his target. Only a few hours in the Hinterlands today, but already plenty of crazy rebel mages and insane templars--what's he supposed to think?

But this crazy mage isn't one whose head he wants to take off. At the moment, anyway.

"Dammit, Blondie! You get yourself caught gallivanting out in broad daylight, I'm not going to be the one to give Hawke the news." 

Dark circles under his eyes, hair dyed dark but fading back to blond at the roots, robes in more tatters than usual, leaning on his staff a bit more than should be necessary, that awful, scraggly beard he’s trying to grow shot through with early gray setting in, long nose smudged with dirt. He looks like shit.

"You look like shit," Varric tells him.

Anders smiles wanly. "I've been trying to keep the Crossroads situation from getting too far out of hand. Turns out a few camp raids and a crow nosediving at templar heads don't actually do much good."

Varric scratches his head. "That whole turning-into-a-bird thing isn't going to keep a templar or mage who's worth anything from figuring it out, you know."

"Like a prissy Court Enchanter asking about your past associations with the mage who took out the Kirkwall Chantry?" His tone is light, but his eyes go a bit hard. At least he hasn't started glowing blue yet.

"You remember the part where I'm doing the angry ex-friend bit to keep you and Hawke safe, right?"

"Is it an act, though?" His voice is suddenly a lot lower, and he's finding the grass pretty interesting. When he looks up, Varric sees a bit of blue glow in his eyes and tries not to shudder outwardly. "You weren't...happy with what I did, and I understand that, Varric, but--"

Varric holds up a hand. "Let's not start this again. What you did was shit, but it was a shit situation. Anyway, I said I'd keep the Inquisition out of your hair, and I meant it."

Anders looks out over the ridge where they're standing, somewhat sheltered by a copse of trees. Discovery is pretty damned imminent if any of Varric's team decides to circle back and figure out what's taking him so long to catch up. Or if any of the wandering bands of mages or templars take a peek in this direction. They really shouldn't be talking out in the open like this. 

"I never stopped thinking about it," Anders says quietly, his voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of far away fighting. "All those people who died, all the people who are still probably going to die in this war....I did everything the way I was supposed to, you know, talked to all the right people in Kirkwall, wrote my manifesto, got as many mages out through the underground as I could...but in the end, none of that mattered."

He catches Varric's eyes, and Varric can barely look at him, the hurt and frustration are so obvious.

"Justice was right. What we did had to be done. But...I really thought Hawke would kill me." 

"Blondie--"

Anders smiles that small, sad smile at him, the one that makes Varric torn between whether to get him a drink or punch him in the face. "Anyway, thank you for what you're doing, Varric. I know it can't be easy."

Varric shrugs. "You know me, I'm a fantastic liar. Easy as pie."

Anders turns away and is about to do that magic thing where he turns back into a bird and flies off to who knows where, and Varric realizes they’re not through, even though they should be. "Hey. You know I'm doing this for you, too, right? Not just Hawke?"

Anders doesn't turn around, but he goes still. "You don't have to--"

"I mean it, Blondie. I may not agree with all your life choices, but dammit, you're my friend, too." He coughs uncomfortably. "Anyway, the world's gone to shit--big hole in the sky, more red lyrium instead of less, this war and all. Who else but us is going to fix it?"

"Your Inquisition's giving it a go, seems to me."

"Yeah, but they're useless without a little help on the side, you know what I mean? And while I'd like to take credit, it's really the Herald who's whipping the Inquisition into shape. Not that she'd admit it outright. Incidentally, you know she's sweet on Cullen?"

Anders turns at that, barking out a laugh that's more genuine than anything Varric's heard from him in months. "What, that uptight templar from Kirkwall? Really?"

Varric grins and shrugs. "It's pathetic, the way they dance around it. Maybe someday they'll get their heads out of their asses and do something about it. If we're lucky they'll be smarter about it than some other people I know. Took those idiots three years."

"Turned out all right in the end, though, didn't it?" Anders is still smiling slightly.

"Yeah, I suppose so. Might've saved themselves some grief, is all I'm saying." Varric secures Bianca on his back and tugs at his shirt cuffs. "Curly's changed, you know. People do that--change and get better. And sometimes they help make the world a better place at the same time. No matter what they did in the past, good or bad."

"But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Varric? Making the world a better place?"

"Me? Nah. I'm just a dishonest businessman."

Varric is making to turn on his heel and hightail it out of here before their luck runs out and someone sees them, so he's not quick enough to avoid Anders swooping down at him without warning and practically lifting him off the ground in a quick, tight hug.

"Thank you, Varric," Anders says.

Varric pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Get out of here, Blondie. And tell Hawke to feed you something before you waste away."

He can't quite bring himself to watch the transforming-into-a-bird thing--he's seen more than his fair share of magic at this point, but he's a dwarf for crying out loud; some things just don't make sense. Still, he stands there for another minute and watches the bird fly off toward the horizon, giving a shrill cry as it goes.

Okay, so maybe not bronto dung for Wintersend, Varric thinks as he trudges back to camp. A decent meal, war permitting. A haircut. More epic, feathery paldrons. 

But first, there's a world to save.


End file.
